


Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme

by CampionSayn



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Wish Fulfillment, horrible realizations, the opposite of the usual Helgazar fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-25
Updated: 2015-09-25
Packaged: 2018-04-23 07:19:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4868048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CampionSayn/pseuds/CampionSayn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a time when wishing was having, Salazar got what he wished for and then wished he hadn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme

**Author's Note:**

  * For [withmynewwings](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=withmynewwings), [adatuunes](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=adatuunes).



_Her blood was in his mouth._  
  
_Her blood was flecked across his face, his eyes, his hair, most of the front of his robes and he had never wanted to purge as much in his life as he did in that moment as Helga looked straight at him--the spinning wheel spindle the Slytherin House seventh year had been holding moments ago torn through her back and out through her right shoulder._

* * *

He _left_ for a reason. He _came back_ for a reason.   
  
Salazar had begged, so many years ago now, it seemed, for the other houses to understand exactly why he thought purebloods were better for the school. Why it was good for morale among those who had been hunted down for generations just because of what they are, as opposed to harboring those who thought deserved a little of the same treatment one generation or less in the firing range.  
  
He had felt that when he left, down to his skin and blood and bone. A lot of his students had wanted to come with him when he'd left, but Helga convinced him to make them stay, try and see things he couldn't. Try to understand.  
  
She had even taken them in, volunteered to show the purebloods that Muggle-born were not all ignorant and selfish, or little monsters waiting to swallow up pureblood magic in the dead of night like spiders at the corners of a web.  
  
He had left with his blessing taking residence in Helga's understanding, Godric's annoyance and Rowena's consideration.  
  
Salazar had ventured into the world alone. Never married, but had given his seed to pureblood women who asked him for help, who didn't want to marry cruel wizards with more volatile magic or Muggles that might slaughter their young. It was embarrassing; he'd grown quite attached to the last one he'd donated to, even giving her his prized locket as the beginning or a courtship, but she had declined, preferring to remain a spinster with their--her--child already six months heavy in her middle. He let her keep the locket, though and continued on to see more of the North--  
  
And then Godric and Rowena sent owls.

* * *

_"...Get her a priest..."_  
  
_Upstairs the castle that was a school that was made mostly from four people's magic was in disorganized chaos as the news of tragedy spread fast as fire through drought lands._  
  
_His loyal--too loyal, oh, oh, oh, too loyal, Salazar was going to be sick; Helga's blood had dried to his skin and he could still taste it even after all the hours had sped past--students of his house of snakes were being shielded by the house of eagles and defended by the house of lions and Salazar vaguely realized he'd never thought he'd live to see the day when it was the house of badgers that would be making such a call for blood and slaughter and retribution._  
  
_Godric and Rowena would probably calm them soon enough with the news that the particular snake that felled their matriarch badger had already been put down--by the former patrician king of snakes himself--but not before they did what the thin Parseltongue ordered plaintively._  
  
_Although order was probably not the right word as he sounded not a bit like they recalled from before he'd left; his low and melodious voice was still there, but it was like the shell of some seed pod without the life inside of it. He wasn't making an order, he was making a request of his friends._  
  
_"She'd want a priest."_

* * *

Perhaps he'd underestimated some things and overestimated others.  
  
Godric, in his letter brought to Salazar on the outskirts of some nowhere town outside of Scandinavia, told of Helga's admirable ability to condense her duties to her own house and the house of snakes. How she educated them on all sides and took as much of the time as she was able to give into calming down arguments that arose sometimes out of nowhere brought on by both the Muggle bred and the purebloods. How practically all of his little snakes still respected the hell out of Salazar but had grown less afraid of Muggles because of how Helga spoke of experiences in their midst; she'd grown up among nothing but non-magic folk and been defended by everyone who really knew her, even when crueler beings of the stock came to beat her or burn her at the stake. The head of the house of lions suggested Salazar to come back and see if, just maybe, he could make peace and be with them again.  
  
Rowena, in the letter delivered while he was heading back to England, rain pouring down on him on a deserted road, wrote of Helga slowly crumbling under all the pressure and not being able to actually say she was being ruined. How while some of the snakes had taken to her, the older ones that took Salazar far too seriously and believed much of the paranoia and rumors questioned the head of the badgers about everything; they'd started escalating their trying actions with wizard duels in the hallways with Muggleborns that didn't even understand the concept, made some of the younger students leave back for their families ashamed of themselves--one of the elder students had outright refused to go to classes with Hufflepuff and Helga herself with a little group following his lead. The head of the house of eagles was making a point to say that if he wasn't going to come for the students, he should at least come to aid with Helga suffering.  
  
Salazar had headed leisurely back on horse at Godric's letter. He rode on self-made broomstick at Rowena's.

* * *

_It took Rowena getting the priest; Godric restoring order to the halls above the lone dungeon one dead and one living remained inside; the weeping and still enraged Hufflepuffs finally being told their lady had been avenged; the Slytherins both removing themselves to their dorms and removing all traces of the dead body just outside the gates with spells of scorching, perfect white-hot flame cleaning up blood and ash and leaving nothing behind but black, ruined grass; the priest arriving and giving last rites..._  
  
_It took all this to happen before Salazar finally allowed Helga's body to be removed from his arms, his loss of her made all the more real by her blood still covering him and the smell of her perfume mingling with the iron of the red liquid._  
  
_That pureblood boy came from a long line of dark wizards and they would probably blame every house but the snakes when the founding wizards and witch wrote to inform them of the little murdering bastard's act of cowardice in stabbing Helga through the heart in what he'd hoped would be something that would make the older pureblood happy. They'd probably point the finger at Godric or Rowena, half-blood and blood traitor they were presumed to be in the family's eyes._

_Salazar would set that right, for sure as he had made right the the little viper being alive and gloating over Helga's dead form (she'd seen him from the castle bridge, called to him as he set foot to the ground, told her head boy and girl to inform the little snakes, waved her wand so that the clock tower bell rang merry to welcome him, opened castle doors for him, opened her arms to embrace in joy and greeting and hope--) as his way of proving something Salazar found himself forgetting as Helga fell to his shocked embrace; breath leaving her and leaving Salazar and his wand pointing without thought upon the other standing with blood on his hands._  
  
_"Fool."_

* * *

It struck him later, when he collapsed from grief-turned-exhaustion, that the insult before was not meant for the the young man that drew the weapon and made the kill, but for the complete imbecile who allowed the thought, the build, the action to happen.

 

**Author's Note:**

> This was written because I discovered adatuunes on Tumblr with the awesomeness of all Founders art EVER and while reading her notes found some interesting ideas. Plus, withmynewwings, also on Tumblr, said something about the usual theme of Helgazar fics that I found...unfortunate. True, but still unfortunate.


End file.
